


The cure to loneliness is just another loner type.

by Beakaboochu



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Cats are the cure to all loneliness, Jack has a different type of family, Other, There are feels if you have lost a pet you were close to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beakaboochu/pseuds/Beakaboochu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack hasn't always been alone. But his company may not be what one expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The cure to loneliness is just another loner type.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm sorry I haven't gotten chapter two of Beginning up yet. I swear I'm working on it, but with my sister introducing me to Docter Who, the holidays and random plot bunnies tackling me to write totaly different storys weeeeellll.... this is where it led me.  
> So.  
> Please comment if there is anything I need to improve, change or anything else you guys can think of. Even if its a simple why have I written this. 
> 
> Thank you :D

“What greater gift than the love of a cat.”  
― Charles Dickens

 

Jack was not always alone. 

Though for the first part of his life he was.

Summer-- Spend time staring up at the sky in the lonely snowy parts of the world (never sleeping, the living dead don't sleep)

Fall-- Jack helping to change the leaves and leaving frost everywhere. Watching the other children play in the leaves with a strong sense of longing

Winter-- work. Lots of work. With play interlaced of course.

Spring-- watching his snow melt. Watching families grow. Longing for what he did not have.

On one Fall day the cycle changed forever.

He stopped being alone.

Now the company may not be able to talk unless one had a good grasp of empathy or even an excellent imagination but it was company non the less. 

He first found his new friends when flying around a small forest when he heard a small cry. Jack froze mid flight to look around, trying to find what cried out in such pain and fear. 

He started racing toward a large oak tree when he heard the terrified cry again. 

Jack looked around franticly before he once again heard the sound coming from above him. 

When he found the source he shot up to the rope holding a small kitten by its back leg, thrashing and mewling in panic even as Jack cooed soothingly to it. 

Jack formed a sharp shard of ice to cut away the rope, gently supporting the small kitten so it would not fall (wincing only a small amount when the panicked creature dug claws deep enough into his cold flesh to draw the blood if he had been alive to have any). 

As soon as the kitten was cut free, it clung to Jack shaking and crying into the crook of his arm which he hushed and soothed the scared little feline. 

Jack touched back down to the ground, holding his new charge close, looking around trying to find the little ones family but having no success in the immediate area, so he set out. 

Night fell, Jack kept looking. 

Morning came, Jack found some food for the kitten but it would not take it.  
He found a small farm and took to milking a cow for a bit of milk. The kitten drank with much enthusiasm, making Jack laugh. When it was done he scooped the purring kitten back up and began the search again. 

Fall came but the kitten was still with Jack.  
He had begun calling the kitten Vea (the discovery of the gender was a very interesting moment that he will not dwell on too much) after a small girl in one of the towns that ran back and forth between the battlefield, hospital, and her own home, taking care of both Union and Confederate soldiers. Such a sweet girl, comforting the wounded and dyeing, until she herself became one of the sick.  
The small kitten comforted the dead, so it seemed a fitting name.  
By this time the kitten was old enough to hunt and eat solid meals. Even if Jack did not need to eat or drink his small companion made sure he took some breaks in his work and play to rest so she could be taken care of. 

When winter began Jack found a safe hollow near his lake to let his friend be safe as he zoomed around and about, doing his winter duties.  
That winter had been a busy one.  
Trying to keep soldiers warm while giving the Earth the rest it needed. Comforting the children who's fathers, brothers, friends would never make it home because of the war going on in their own backyard. He spent as much time as he could stand on his home continent, knowing he was stronger the closer he was to his lake “home”.  
But when it got to be too much he would fly to the other parts of the world to bring his winter fun to the other places so in need of it. 

When spring came around Jack was relieved to go back to his home and to the only friend that could see him.  
Before his feet touched the ground Vea was racing towards him meowing, scampering to and fro.  
Jack laughed at the excited feline, scooping her up and cuddling her close, listening to the soothing purrs as she licked his face happily.  
Jack laid down to close his eyes and just listen to the purrs until the tempered off into soft breathing. They stayed like that until the morning, taking in each others presences, welcoming the company. 

Summer-- play

Fall-- Jack helping to change the leaves and leaving frost everywhere. Vea playing in said leaves and frost.

Winter-- separation and work

Spring-- cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddling.

This routine continued on for three more years until one spring Vea was not in the hollow Jack always left her in. 

He searched for her franticly, not wanting to lose his only friend.

He flew every which way in the area looking for her for days. Jack slumped inward, on the verge of giving up finding his one and only companion, when he heard a soft familiar mew coming from under a fallen log. 

He dropped down to the ground looking under the log with so much hope bubbling in his chest it hurt only to freeze in amazement. 

Vea was not alone under the log. 

In fact she had not one, not two, but seven small kittens grouped around her either suckling or sleeping or even clumsily playing! 

Jack laughed; excitement, relief, pride, and love coloring his joy in such brightness making Vea purr her own contentment. 

Jack stayed with Vea and her kittens all through the Spring and Summer months. 

By the time Fall came back all but one kitten had left. The runt of the litter seemed far too taken to Jack to want to leave. So Jack took in the little male cat and named him Levi after a man who helped his other fellow humans get the freedom they deserved. 

And so the cycle continued. 

Summer-- play

Fall-- Jack helping to change the leaves and leaving frost everywhere. Vea and her child Levi playing in said leaves and frost again.

Winter-- separation and work

Spring-- more kittens. Especially when Levi came of age his whole forest had Levi look a likes as he found his own female felines. And with each new brood more cats were added to his own “litter”.

But as with everything on earth, there is a time for eternal rest. Jack was grateful for that small blessing. He was able to be with Vea when she passed on. 

Jack cried.

That was all he could do for a while. 

Then Jack found a small clearing and began digging a small grave to bury his precious friend while the other cats looked on.

The cycle went on.

Summer-- play

Fall-- Jack helping to change the leaves and leaving frost everywhere. Levi and the children that had stayed behind playing in said leaves and frost again.

Winter-- separation and work

Spring-- more kittens. More goodbyes. More hellos.

This went on year after year after year. New broods, new life, more friends. Each new cat that stayed was added to his “litter”. He came up with the brilliant idea of writing down all the names of his “family” whether still with him or those that passed on. Soon he had a small book full of names of his “family” members that he carried around everywhere in his hoodie pocket.

The years passed by with the cycle being unbroken.

Until the cycle was changed with the Pitch Black debacle. 

Then the it all changed again.

Summer-- play with his feline family and his human(ish) family. Sometimes even togther.

Fall-- Jack helping to change the leaves and leaving frost everywhere. Sandy adding in his own touches to let Jack's “litter” play in said leaves and frost and sand. 

Winter-- Warm families, work, play, work and white Christmases

Spring-- more kittens. More hellos. More hope. A lot more flowers. (especially once Bunny found his feline graveyards. Each little grave that was marked with a stone and a name now marked with a flower as well)

 

Jack was never really alone. He had a family. And now both families keep him safe. Happy. Sane. Even with the goodbyes. For what is a cat but just another person on four furry legs.


End file.
